


Rebuilding Relationships

by hunterishere



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen) Deserves Better, Connor Murphy Lives (Dear Evan Hansen), Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Gay Jared Kleinman, I hope this doesn't suck, Jared Kleinman Is Bad at Feelings, Jared is trying his best, Kleinsen, M/M, Tree Bros, be nice to me about my writing this shit HARD, evan and connor being friends or whateva, i've never tried to do chapters before, if this ends up unfinished im so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterishere/pseuds/hunterishere
Summary: Evan Hansen is alone and anxious and hates the cafeteria. One interaction with Connor Murphy strikes him in an unexpected way. On the journey to friendship with his fellow outcast, Evan Hansen finds Jared Kleinman to be much more friendly than usual. Is this what making friends is like?
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Rebuilding Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning so there's no real progress but that's ok! I'm never gonna be good at writing plot, which is why I opt for fanfiction instead of original work lol. WE'RE HERE FOR CHARACTERS NOT STORY! I've never tried to do chapters before so if this is 18 months old and hasn't been updated don't be afraid to yell at me in the comments hehe. Hope you enjoy :)  
> PS can someone please let me know if you can see the words that are italicized? This story is probably confusing without italics

One moment, I’m in class and everything is normal. I’m doing my work and listening to music and everything is going about as alright as it ever goes for me. The next moment, I can’t catch my breath. Sometimes there’s no warning. I feel tears prickling behind my eyes and try my best to push them away. Evidently, my best isn’t enough. Tears fall from my nose to my paper, ruining the work I’d done in ink. At first I’m scared people around me will think I’m weird or scary for having a sudden outburst in the middle of class. I quickly realize none of them have even noticed. That’s for the better, I suppose… 

It happens again during lunch, to no one’s surprise. Jared says he won’t sit with me because having a friend who cries over his sandwich everyday is worse than having no friends at all. I didn’t bother to point out that we’re family friends. I also didn’t bother to fight it.

Everything is just so loud, and the room is so full, and I am so alone. I used to go to the library during lunch, but there’s no food allowed in the shelves, and mom started checking my lunches to make sure I eat. I could just throw the sandwich away, but then I’ll spiral in a whole different direction about wasting food and lying to my mother. Thinking about this makes me cry more. I don’t know whether I’m happy or sad that no one’s noticed. On one hand, it would be nice if someone cared. Sometimes I fantasize about telling someone how I truly feel, about having a friend that would really listen and care about what I have to say. But on the other hand, I know that’s unrealistic, and I would much rather be ignored than ridiculed.

Finally, I decide lunch isn’t worth it. Sorry mom I think as I pack up my uneaten food and head to the library. At least I tried, right? I’m trying to think positive but it feels as if I have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Yeah, that’s what’s so pathetic, tiny devil Evan says, you actually did try, and you lasted a whole three minutes. Unfortunately, tiny devil Evan is right. No lies detected here. That’s the thing. Anxiety brain never lies, so I can’t entirely dismiss what it says. Tiny angel Evan is trying, distantly, to tell me that only acknowledging the worst versions of the truth is just as bad as lying, but I’m not totally convinced.

I step into the library and stop with the doors just behind me. I breathe in the cold air. For some reason, the AC only really works in here, making the climate much colder in the library than the rest of the school. Of course, I stand there for a moment too long, and one of the double doors hits me in the back. “Oof-- Sorry” I manage as I hit the carpet. Under normal circumstances, I would rush away without even looking at whoever hit me. But I’ve been panicking for a good hour and my brain is all jumbled. My reaction times are too slow. Because of this, I look up to meet my peer in the eyes.

To my utter dismay, the student standing above me is Connor Murphy. Connor Murphy who once threw a printer at his teacher. Connor Murphy who vaguely looks like he could be a school shooter. Connor Murphy who appears and disappears with no warning. Connor Murphy who is standing above me and literally staring me down.

“I’m so sorry I- I didn’t- I don’t know why I was standing there, I…” I desperately try to explain my way out of this conflict-to-be. I’m already picturing the worst. I’m prepared to go home in a full body cast. Instead of the pummelling I probably deserve, I get… nothing. Connor Murphy looks at me with an emotionless face, and just… walks away. Something about that face… it shook me up. He looked so tired, like he’s been running on empty for far longer than he should. I find myself alone, on the floor, thinking about Connor Murphy’s eyes... 

One positive side to the awkward encounter I shared with Connor, is that it’s been properly distracting. Thinking about what happened, and how weird it was, has completely taken my mind off its previous anxieties.

To be honest, I’ve never given much thought to Connor Murphy. He’s always just… been there. In the background. Just like me. But after he stared into my soul like that, I can’t get him off my mind. I wonder how long it’s been since he had a haircut. I know his hair was short at one point, but the silhouette of Connor Murphy has been finished off with long, messy hair for a ages. I can’t seem to imagine him without it anymore. I wonder if he spent a lot of money on his boots. He could afford to, but he doesn’t seem to give much thought to his appearance, except for black painted nails. I wonder if they’re doc martens, or if Connor prefers his clothes cruelty free. My thoughts wander like this for the rest of the day. I’m not sure why…

It was probably a mistake to take these thoughts to Jared, but what can you do? The damage has been done.

“Dude, what are you like, in love with him?!” Jared’s voice echoes through my laptop speaker.  
“Wh- ? No! No that’s... “ What I want to say is that if I’m in love with anyone, it’s him, not Connor, and that maybe I called him just to hear his voice rather than get advice about this situation. It’s not like Jared’s an expert.  
“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you are-”  
“No, Jared, I’m not. I just…” I’m grateful when Jared gives me time to sort out my thoughts. He pretends like he’s so annoyed with me, and I’m not going to lie, it does get to me, but moments like this remind me that he’s just acting out of his own insecurities.  
“I just feel bad, I guess,” I finally continue, “I never wondered about him or how he was doing. I barely even acknowledged his existence, and when I did I was basing my perception of him off of rumors. I don’t know Jared… Maybe I should… I don’t know…”  
“I hope you’re not thinking of befriending that psycho. You two would be an explosive pair. Or, he would be explosive, and you would be implosive” Jared warns.  
“You don’t know that! You don’t know him!” I’m suddenly feeling very defensive. How could Jared read my mind like that? Am I really so easy to read? And who is he to lecture me about friends?  
“Neither do you! Look I just… I don’t…” That’s weird, Jared never stumbles over his words like this, he says the first thing that pops into his head, to a fault even.  
“It would suck massive nards to get beaten up by a kid who paints his nails, and if you’re in danger, so am I”.  
“I like his nails... “ I mutter after a long silence.  
“Ok well that’s not the point. You want a second cast this year?”  
“I really don’t think…”  
“Sorry to end this pity party but I have a wizard 101 appointment in five minutes so I gotta dip. Be careful, bro”. With a meager bleepbloop, Jared disappears from my screen. How did I end today with more questions than I started with? I started with a lot of questions!

I’m alone in the biggest library I’ve ever seen. Rows and rows of shelves stretch on for as far as I can see. It must be outdoors, because I feel a breeze ruffle my hair and shirt. Oh. I look down at myself and realize I’m in a loose fitting t shirt and sweatpants, something I would never wear outside of my house (too many people judging, always gotta be dressed to impress. But not impress TOO much, I don’t actually want to leave an impression, I just don’t want to look like I don’t care either). I reach out in front of me, and pick up a book with no title. Inside is a picture of Connor Murphy. Connor Murphy as he is now, empty eyes and messy hair. The next page shows the same Connor, but… smiling. The next page shows Connor as a freshman with a fresh haircut and a bored smirk on his face. The next shows Connor in the seventh grade, wearing the same hoodie he always wears, though it appears much bigger on his childhood frame. I find myself deeply involved in the story of Connor. When I look back up, the bookshelves have disappeared. I’m overcome with a feeling of dread. I should not have picked up this book.

My alarm beeps me awake. Just like most other mornings, I wake up with labored breathing. And just like most other mornings, I ignore it. I brush my teeth and get dressed with the dream on my mind. I tend to overthink my dreams like this. It’s even worse considering I know nothing about dream analysis. I could never tell my dreams to anyone else either. So I just let myself stew on these dreams until the next one comes around.

The odd thing about last nights dream is that, for the most part, I wasn’t feeling nervous. Up until the end there, I was comfortable and relaxed. That hasn’t happened since I started getting nightmares, years ago. If I remember my dream, it’s always 100% anxiety inducing. Of course this is not comforting to me in my consciousness. What could any of this possibly mean?

I notice for the first time that Connor passes me on his way to first period. He certainly doesn’t notice me either, his eyes are glued to the floor, and his earbuds are playing music so loud that I could hear it from across the crowded hallway. I’m beginning to believe maybe Connor is just a normal, sad teenager. 

By the time lunch rolls around, I’ve almost completely convinced myself to go back to the library and look for Connor. Almost. Jared’s voice replays in my mind, reminding me who Connor is rumored to be. For once, I don’t expect the worst, but Jared does? What kind of alternate universe are we living in?

I stand outside the cafeteria as students bustle around me, talking loudly and spilling food. I stand here and wonder what the hell I’m doing? I’m not sure I have a place in this school, but if I do, it’s certainly not in the cafeteria. Fuck Jared, I’m going to the library. Whether I’m going to seek out Connor Murphy or simply sit alone, I haven’t decided yet. I tend to do better if I don’t let myself think. Today, when I enter the library, I waste no time standing in front of the door. I walk with a purpose (though I have no idea where I’m going) through the stacks, and finally plop myself down in a comfortable chair towards the back. Around me, I see other outcasts browse the shelves and read in corners. These are people I recognize. These are people who I tried (and failed) to befriend many moons ago. Turns out, just because you’re ranked similarly on the social ladder, doesn’t mean you’re destined to be friends. Or even like each other. That’s fine with me. Less friends means less conversation to overthink. 

Now that I’m sitting here, though, I don’t really know what to do. I don’t know how to sit or where to put my hands. I don’t know if it’s appropriate to take out my phone or if this is some no-electronic zone. I don’t know where to look. I don’t know if I’m breathing too heavy (or maybe I’m not breathing heavily enough!). Suddenly, I remember why I overthink and overplan everything. To avoid this.

I tell myself that it’s fine! I’m just sitting. Sitting is allowed, right? Breathing is allowed. Looking is allowed, but I stare at the floor anyway. What did I do in here yesterday? Why can’t I remember what happened yesterday?? Interrupting my spiral is a familiar pair of blue converse.  
“J-Jared?” I say.  
“Hush! This is a library!” He hisses back.  
“Sorry…” I want to become a ball of yarn. So bad.  
“I thought I might find you here,” Jared starts (with a much more appropriate volume level than me), “Look, Connor left during algebra and never came back” He says as he wheels his rolly backpack to the seat nearest to me.  
“You… you have math with Connor?”  
“Unfortunately. Hey, do you think we’re allowed to move these closer together? Ah fuck it, I will anyway”  
“Why are you…”  
“I figured you would come here and look for Connor. You’ve never listened to anything I’ve told you. It made me sad to think about you waiting here all expectantly and never seeing him” Jared shrugs.  
“He could still show up” I whisper.  
“What?” While trying to respect the library, I’ve aimed for a volume way too low.  
“He might’ve come back after class. He could still show up”  
“I doubt it, but if he does show up, I’d love to see your ass get beat” He chuckles.

I don’t point out that Jared has never once sat with me during lunch, or that he picked up a lounge chair just to be next to me, or that he’s no longer fighting me about the Connor thing even though he always holds grudges, or even that he’s getting crumbs on the floor when he’s not supposed to be eating in here. I don’t say anything because it’s nice to sit here with him and I’m scared to ruin it.

My relationship with Jared is… fragile. We were really close when his mom first sold my mom our house, but you know, we were 7. We would build lego houses together and go to the pool, that was about it. It seemed like the peak of friendship in second grade. Somewhere around fourth or fifth grade people started to understand social classes, and Jared grew distant. I don’t think it was on purpose, it was just that I wasn’t invited to the birthday parties he was. We ran in different circles. During middle school he gradually got meaner. For a while there he refused to even wave back to me in the hall. I stopped sending him texts because he stopped responding. His friends would laugh at me and he wouldn’t join, but he wouldn’t stop them. Then, sophomore year he got a drivers license, and apparently I’m crucial to his car insurance contract. Deep down I know he’s lying. I know he wanted me back in his life. Jared is the least confrontational person I’ve ever met, and this was probably the only way he could imagine rebuilding our friendship. But I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t hurt.

So Jared coming to keep me company in the library is a little out of the norm. I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, so I pull my knees to my chest and just… watch him. I watch him shamelessly eat his peanut butter crackers and resist the urge to wipe off his keyboard. I’ve always appreciated the way the tip of his nose moves with his jaw. Most people would have trouble calling Jared “cute”, but not me. His nose is twitching like a bunny’s and his light dusting of freckles has faded since summer. How is that not cute?

“Stop staring at me bro, you’re being creepy” He mumbles, never taking his eyes off his laptop screen. I avert my eyes faster than a bolt of lightning.  
“Sorry!” I squeak. Once again, I’ve been too loud, but he doesn’t say anything.  
“‘S cool” he responds.  
Jared has never accepted an apology from me before :)

Connor’s not at school the next day. Or the next. I’m not surprised, just disappointed. I’ve built this up way too much in my head. Some moments I start to fantasize about having a new best friend who will go with me on hikes, but other moments I’m convinced he’ll just kill me on the spot. I’ve written out a script, because I’m me, and if I try to wing it I’ll surely mess everything up. The script goes: “Hi, my name is Evan Hasen. I’m the guy you bumped into on Monday. Sorry for standing in front of the door like that. I was wondering if you would like to eat lunch with me? We can go anywhere you’d like, it doesn’t have to be the cafeteria”.

It’s much too formal, but it’s better this way than the alternative. Probably. Besides, it’s better to make it clear I’m a dork from the beginning, right? At first the script said “Would you like to be my friend?” but Jared told me only kindergarteners ask that question. I said that I probably haven’t made a friend since kindergarten away, and Jared said that was sad.

Jared’s been sitting with me, still. I can’t quite figure out why. If it were anyone else, I would ask. But Jared will probably take the first excuse to get out of here, and he’s the only person I actually want around. Except Connor, I suppose. Jared promised to stay back when I finally get to talk to Connor. Connor seems fragile and Jared is… not. A naive part of me thinks they might be able to become friends in some time. Then I could have a group of friends!

I’ve never had a group of friends before. I’ve hardly even had a friend before. I try not to think about it too hard, because I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I’ve never had great control over my brain or where it goes. I wonder if Connor and Jared have the same sense of humor. It seems like they might. I wonder if Connor watches anime like Jared. I wonder if Jared will let Connor paint his nails.

I’m deep into a fantasy about watching The Breakfast Club with them, and assigning us characters (I’m Brian, Connor is Bender, but Jared stumps me) when an elbow jostles me out of my head.  
“Wh…”  
“Look! It’s your manz!” Jared says.  
“Oh… Oh! OH!”


End file.
